


love me, love me, never let me go

by colfield



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, mentions of undefined mental illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9685970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colfield/pseuds/colfield
Summary: If Veronica is gonna be the hero this time, maybe it won't be so bad to have Betty as the princess.





	

**Author's Note:**

> title from gold by kiira, because it was playing during That Scene, and I thought it fit. plus I listened to her EP on repeat while writing this.
> 
> excuse the vague mentions of the killer/that storyline. I don't have any theories about who the killer was and didn't want to make assumptions in this fic. It's not really important to the fic other than timeline of the show. otherwise, enjoy!

_ It starts like _ \- 

 

The movie of Veronica’s life starts here, in Riverdale. Nothing that happened before has to matter. This is a chance to reinvent herself, be a new, better Veronica. One without the harsh edges and broken pieces.

 

Her mother is devastated, naturally. The city was her escape, supposed to be both her new beginning and her storybook ending. Veronica does her best to comforting, to hide her relief behind an understanding frown.

 

Riverdale is Veronica’s fairytale. She gets to be the hero here.

 

_ It starts like -  _

 

Betty, the sweet girl next door.

 

Archie, the handsome boy with a heart of gold.

 

And Veronica, learning how she fits into this place, borrowing Betty’s warmth and Archie’s shine.

 

Betty, with her perfectly curled hair and pretty pink lips, tilted into a genuine smile. She stutters around her words, dressed in her pastels, perpetually the schoolgirl. This is the key to Veronica’s reinvention, here in this soda shop, tucked into cheap leather, mouth closed around the straw of her vanilla milkshake.

 

Veronica Before would have whispered words like  _ virgin  _ and  _ prude _ and  _ pathetic _ just loud enough for Betty to hear.

 

Veronica Now swallows down the words and forces a smile. Betty returns it.

 

_ It starts like _ -

 

Betty, her eyes filled with desperation, body held stiffly, preparing for the bomb before it’s even dropped.

 

Veronica, evidence of the fallout, clinging to this one girl for survival, always been one for a preemptive attack.

 

Betty, lips parted in surprise, kissing back like she’s done this before.

 

Veronica, holding her tight, feeling the way shock rolls through Betty’s body.

 

Betty’s lipstick, smudged across her cheek.

 

The hush of a room shocked into silence louder than Cheryl’s obvious disdain. Oh, well, Veronica has never been one to half ass shit. In for a penny, in for a pound.

 

She spits venom until Cheryl’s painted on pout falls, coiled tight as a cobra ready to strike.

 

It’s worth it, the cracks in her facade, slipping into old habits, when Betty spins in her primary colors, grin wide enough to split her face.

 

If Veronica is gonna be the hero this time, maybe it won’t be so bad to have Betty as the princess.

 

_ It ends like -  _

 

Veronica locked in a closet with Archie, who belongs to Betty in every way a person can, with a lump in her throat and jealousy in her veins.

 

Breaking things the way she always does, destined to play the Wicked Bitch no matter the setting, kissing Archie and thinking of Betty. It’s a cliche down the bones, and she’s so sick of this refrain.

 

She’s reduced to groveling for scraps of Betty’s attention, begging on her knees for forgiveness, any way to flip the script, make things right again.

 

It’s not the first time she’s done this sort of thing, but it’s the first time she’s felt weighed down by guilt, twisted up inside every time her eye catches Betty’s in the hallways.

 

Cheryl, cloyingly sweet, takes Betty by the hand, leaving Veronica alone in her ruins.

 

Archie’s just as miserable, but even that doesn’t console her. Betty’s too good for either of them, and it’s best if they let her go now, before they can do more damage. Even that doesn’t lessen the ache crawling up Veronica’s throat or stop the violent possessive urge to drag Betty back to her side.

 

And yet, somehow . . .

 

Somehow, Veronica is back with Betty, settled into worn booths, bumping knees and shyly promising to never let a boy get between them again. Just like that, Veronica has her story back on track with sugar on her lips and Betty’s gaze on her face.

 

_ It’s like this -  _

 

Betty’s mom doesn’t trust Veronica, or anyone, for that matter, so Betty spends her time sneaking around, shielding Veronica as sacred as a secret.

 

Betty thinks it’s dirty, that it lessens their friendship somehow, keeping it away from prying vulture’s eyes. She doesn’t understand that this is just for them. Why should Veronica care what other people think? 

 

All her life, Veronica has had friends for show. Popularity, wealth, status. That’s all that mattered in her world.

 

But this. This is something special. She’s the only one who gets to see the way Betty laughs, ugly, throwing her head back and tears on cheeks. This Betty - the one who lays her head on Veronica's shoulder and talks to her in low murmurs, the one who bakes Veronica’s favorite red velvet cupcakes and helps her eat the whole batch in one afternoon, the one who looks at Veronica like she’s someone worth sneaking around for - that Betty is hers alone.

 

“It’s clandestine, almost, like Jack and Rose.” Veronica tells her when Alice Cooper snoops too close to the truth. Betty narrows her eyes, a teasing smirk curling at the corners of her face. A thrill of pride rushes through Veronica that she knows Betty well enough to catch the hidden glee.

 

“Are you calling me poor?” Betty knocks into Veronica’s shoulder, all mock offense. “And implying I die at the end?”

 

“Never.” Veronica intones seriously.

 

It doesn’t have to mean anything that Veronica privately compares them to romantic couples. Betty never mentions it.

 

_ It’s like this - _

 

Veronica goes on dates with the pretty boys at Riverdale, lets them hold her close and kiss her breathless, and she has fun.

 

When she’s home alone, lips buzzing pleasantly from the past few hours, curled into the dark safety of her blankets, her thoughts drift back to Betty.

 

There aren’t any texts from Betty. She’s only mention her nightly rendezvous in passing, and the conversation never lingers there. It doesn’t seem relevant to continue bringing up. They don’t have to share everything. There’s bound to be things Betty keeps to herself, even if the thought sits unevenly in Veronica’s pit.

 

When she dreams, it’s of soft hands stroking the sensitive inside of her thighs, of lips against her skin, breathy moans in her ear. Her hands tangled in hair, the pulse of two bodies moving together.

 

Veronica has had sex dreams since she was in 8th grade and first stumbled across her mother’s stash of bodice rippers under her bed. Usually, there’s any number of faces taking form in her dreams, from celebrities, to well built seniors, to the hot deli boy. Her list of dream partners is far from lacking.

 

It’s only recently that the body in her dreams has taken on a distinctly female shape.

 

_ It’s like this -  _

 

The whole world is going up in flames around them.

 

Archie isn’t talking to her right now, and she’s not even sure what she’s done to deserve the silent treatment this time. Jughead’s not sharing, giving her tight lipped looks of disappointment. Betty is blissfully ignorant to all of it.

 

Everything around them could come crashing down at any moment, but Betty is her constant support. Even with all of the shit her family gives her, and all the Polly drama, Betty has never let her down.

 

She’s not sure if it’s the small town air affecting her brain chemistry, or Veronica has just never had a best friend before, but every time Betty selflessly comes to Veronica’s rescue, she falls a little bit in love.

 

The problem with this new Veronica is that she has got something to lose.

 

And with this goddamn town and it’s mysteries unraveling at its seams, she might actually.

 

_ It’s like this - _

 

Betty, tears in her eyes, fingers gripping Veronica’s forearm so tight there’s little white marks on her skin, words fumbling hastily out of Betty’s mouth, “you’re the most important person in my life, V.”

 

Betty, not noticing that Archie and Jughead have broken through the woods searching for them, both of them silent in the foreground, huddled close to keep out the chill, watching her wearily, staying back at Veronica’s warning.

 

Betty, shivering violently in Veronica’s arms, blond hair plastered to her face, rain soaking both of them so thoroughly Veronica wonders if she’ll ever be dry again.

 

Betty, mumbling nonsense, trippingly explaining a story Veronica can’t follow, and Veronica doesn’t know how to help her, or how to get her to stop, her voice drenched in years of hurt.

 

Betty, being all that Veronica can hear, see, think, falling into her.

 

It’s a timid, quiet kiss, both of them shaking too much from cold and emotion to fully give into it. Veronica sobs, titling her face into Betty’s neck, arms tight around her middle.

 

It’s been a long, terrifying year. They’re too young to be the center of a murder investigation.

 

It’s the four of them, dirt streaked, dripping wet, shivering and frightened, climbing back to civilization. Archie’s the one to get the police, standing guard over the three of them. Jughead is the only one who can manage to get the full story out. Betty stays by her side, hand never leaving hers.

 

_ It starts like this - _

 

It’s summer, late in the day, and Betty stretches across the bed to grab her phone. A square patch of sun moves across Betty’s bare shoulder. Veronica decides she wants kiss that spot, so she does.

 

“V,” Betty giggles. Veronica rests her face where she kissed.

 

“Who is it?” Her voice is rough. They haven’t done a lot of talking this since this morning.

 

“It’s Archie. He’s invited us to band practice.” Betty twists to look over her shoulder, one brow raised questioningly.

 

Veronica yawns. When she opens her eyes, Betty is staring at her with that soft look, the one that makes Veronica want to hide.

 

“Tell him we’ll be there.”

 

They’ll have to shower first, Veronica tells Betty as she stands. Betty reaches for hand immediately, and she walks backwards to the bathroom, leading Betty, laughing as Betty tries to land sloppy kisses on her face, not even caring when she clips her elbow painfully on the doorway.

 

It’s been three months, one week, and two days since they stumbled out of the woods.

 

The town is still fascinated with their story, desperate for every scrap of information about what happened that night. Betty prefers to stay in. The attention makes her itchy. Veronica doesn’t care much one way or the other.

 

People are going to stare at her no matter what she’s does. Only now she’s decided she’s done caring what they think about her. She’s happy, for the first time.

 

It’s not all sunshine and rainbows and happy endings for them though. Betty still struggles with her illness. The doctors help, but Betty’s impatient with her recovery, as if she’ll get better through sheer force of will.

 

Veronica still has nightmares. They’ve gotten fewer, the more distance she gets from the event. It helps that Betty is in her bed more nights than not, lately, and that she gets it.

 

And they both have Archie and Jughead.

 

It’s good, the four of them. They spend most of their days in Archie’s garage or Veronica’s apartment, wasting their time, each counting down their limited freedom. They’re all dreading going back to school in the fall. Things have been too easy, just them. Everyone else demands too much, wanting to know all the gory details. Those that aren’t brave enough to ask simply stare.

 

Betty’s fingers are in Veronica’s hair, rubbing gently, but firmly. Veronica looks up at her, watching the concentration on Betty’s face. She loves being shorter, loves when Betty gets focused on a task and Veronica can stare shamelessly.

 

Things didn’t work out exactly the way she imagined they would, but it’s probably for the best.

  
This, what she has right here, is good. And that’s enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! come follow me at my new [tumblr](http://colfields.tumblr.com) because I got locked out of my old one and had to remake and I'm very lonely over there now. tell me about all your B/V thoughts.


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